


The Rest of Her Here

by mywholecry



Category: Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: D/s, F/F, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-02
Updated: 2011-06-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 01:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywholecry/pseuds/mywholecry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kel, for all of her fighting and odd, contained aggression, knows how to handle fragile things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest of Her Here

Kel, for all of her fighting and odd, contained aggression, knows how to handle fragile things. The sparrows travel the careful planes of her fingers to eat food from her palm, to perch at the dulled curves of her nails. When they’re in a pleasant mood, they let her stroke the feathers at the bend of their thin necks, arching up their backs for her.

She knows how to touch things that are easily broken, and, just sometimes, she knows how to mend them.

Lalasa makes small, pleased noises when Kel presses a hand against the edge of her jaw, leaning farther into the space between their rooms. She lets her arms settle around Kel, thin, bird-boned arms clutching her waist until Kel is backed up against the doorframe. Kisses are strange things, full of vulnerability. When they are done correctly, though, that doesn’t matter.

“Thank you,” Lalasa whispers, into her mouth, then a small, wicked smile close by. “ _Thank_ you.”

*

Neal knows about them, somehow immediately after they figure it out, in that way that Neal’s sort of a tool but secretly more perceptive than any of them give him credit for.

“You might have to teach me how to please a woman,” he says, seriously, and she looks at him with wide eyes before she ducks her head and blushes before she can will it away. When she looks up, his eyes have gone sort of nice and soft.

“It’s good,” she murmurs, "with her. It’s easy this way.”

“I would warn you to be careful with her,” Neal says, “but I think you’re the last person I have to tell that to.”

“Yes,” she agrees, then: “You don’t mind?”

“I’m a little disappointed I have two less ladies to potentially swoon over me,” Neal replies, “but you look happy, kid. I mean, you seriously _look happy_. There are facial expressions and everything.”

All at once, she tries to hide a smile and pull her sleeves down to cover the small crescent bruises that scatter the planes of her wrist, the lines of her hands. She’s pretty sure he only notices the smile, which she can’t hold back anymore.

*

Lalasa breathes pretty, quiet words against her neck, words that make her blush, three fingers inside of Kel. They haven’t figured out a rhythm yet, and Kel arches up at the same time that Lalasa presses her free hand to a hip, pushing her back down. They are still so new to each other, new to a body with a sudden shock of confidence and a body that lets someone else take over.

After, Lalasa stands up, dresses quietly.

“Is this wrong?” she asks, soft, her voice and skin and curves, twisting her hands together as her skirts settle over her legs. She covers them up like Kel doesn’t know what they look like when they’re stretched out bare. Kel blinks up at her from the bed, looks up at all the hope and hesitation. She smiles.

“How could it be?” she whispers, happily.

Kel is used to breaking traditions.

She can teach Lalasa how.


End file.
